There Are Men With Guns Up There.

If Eric Thinks I Did Something Right, I Must Have Done It Wrong.

I Feel The Urge, Familiar Now, To Wrench Myself From My Body And Speak Directly Into Her Mind. It Is The Same Urge, I Realize, That Makes Me Want To Kiss Her Every Time I See Her, Because Even A Sliver Of Distance Between Us Is Infuriating. Our Fingers, Loosely Woven A Moment Ago, Now Clutch Together, Her Palm Tacky With Moisture, Mine Rough In Places Where I Have Grabbed Too Many Handles On Too Many Moving Trains. Now She Looks Pale And Small, But Her Eyes Make Me Think Of Wide-open Skies That I Have Never Actually Seen, Only Dreamed Of.

Everything - Our Houses, Our Clothes, Our Hairstyles - Is Meant To Help Us Forget Ourselves And To Protect Us From Vanity, Greed And Envy, Which Are Just Forms Of Selfishness. If We Have Little, And Want For Little, And We Are All Equal, We Envy No One.

No Selfishness Or Insecurity Kept Him From Seeing The Full Extent Of Her Goodness, As It So Often Does With The Rest Of Us. That Kind Of Love May Only Be Possible In Abnegation. I Do Not Know.

Not Like Tobias, Who Is Almost Shy When He Smiles, Like He Is Surprised You Bothered To Look At Him In The First Place.